


The Thought that Counts

by YurikoNeko (AlaxxisSade)



Series: KKM: Father's Day Special [2]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: F/M, Father's Day, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, I THINK I FINALLY GOT THE ANGST PART RIGHT, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaxxisSade/pseuds/YurikoNeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes people forget that I'm... human (for lack of a better word), too. I get tired, I get hurt, I wonder if I'm doing things right.</p><p>Most times I forget you're human at all. Because you're not. For better or for worse, you're more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thought that Counts

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to post this ages ago, but my Wi-fi was down =-=

I stand in front of my father’s grave, and sigh.

                How long has it been since I last came here? Despite my already long life and even longer life expectancy, it seems as though I never have enough time for anything.

                No, I correct myself, that’s wrong. Sometimes I feel—no, I _know_ that I get more things done that anyone else in the country, and that in itself is definitely not a good thing. What I never have enough time for, is myself.

                Take now, for example. I really should be in my office finishing up the work the young king left behind when he travelled to the other world, taking Conrart with him. I suppose I should be glad Wolfram and/or Günter didn’t insist on following them this time, because Conrart I could spare, after all it was his main –and only—job, to watch over His Majesty. But if they tried to take Lord von Christ away from the capital, in these busy times, I swear, I will book myself a room in that human prison on the other side of the world* for a few more centuries.

                …That’s what I say, but when Günter mysteriously disappeared from the castle this morning, in conjunction with that anonymous romance writer’s book-signing in town today, I couldn’t bring myself to run any further than this graveyard in the von Voltaire lands.

                And even now, I can’t help but worry about Blood Pledge Castle. I know for a fact that Conrart can’t handle both His Majesty and Wolfram at once, but this time I almost regret having stopped Wolfram from jumping into that pool. As soon as His Majesty was gone, Greta had pulled him aside and whispered something to him about another of those ridiculous holidays the king was trying to implement. Really, if this went on any further, we’d have more holidays than workdays in a year.

                Though when I heard of this… ‘Father’s Day’ thing, I have to admit, my mind wandered back here.

                “Father… I think I’m beginning to understand you now.”

                My father died when I was young, before I was even fifty. He was, after all, significantly older than Mother, having found her when she needed a babysitter more than a boyfriend. As her husband, he had held her hand on her newly-ascended throne, but not in a romantic way. He was a stiff, I know that much, strict and unyielding, even to his wife and son.

                As a child, I resented that he was always looking angry, or annoyed, and never had time to play ‘Puzzle Bones’ with me as other fathers did. But now…

                “I wonder… Does Wolfram hate me the way I did you…?”

                The age gap between my youngest brother and I isn’t anywhere near as large as the generation gap between me and my father, thank goodness, but I still feel more like a father to Wolfram than a brother. Likewise, Conrad feels a lot like Wolf’s – and His Majesty’s—mother sometimes. And sometimes, when the work gets piled exceptionally high, like just now, and when I get especially short with Wolf, like just now—

                I see that expression on his face, of irritation and resentment, that makes me wonder what I did wrong.

                Like just now.

                “Sighing shortens your life, you know. His Majesty said so.”

                I can’t get away for long, I knew it. “How did you know I’d be here?”

                “Well, it’s true that you’re too big to hide in that prawn-apple tree now, so I figured you might go a bit further than the backyard.”

                “Not far enough, it seems.” I massage my temple, turning around to see that flare of brilliant red that stood out against the grey graves every bit as much as I knew it would. “I don’t have time for your experiments now, Anissina.”

                She cocks her head, large blue eyes fixed on me so intently I have to resist the urge to look away. “The people back at Blood Pledge Castle are panicking, you know. The king goes missing, no problem. Lorrd Weller defects to the enemy side, it’s a bother, but life goes on. Lord von Christ in the hospital wing due to anemia, no one even bats an eyelid anymore. But once you’re not in your usual seat, marking papers—all hell breaks loose.”

                I feel a muscle in my face twitch. “And why, pray tell, am _I_ the pivotal piece here? I’m not the king!”

                “No.” Before I can indulge in that pleasant surprise that comes with Anissina agreeing with me for once, she continues with, “You’re what His Majesty’s world calls a “President Minister”. You hold the real power, while the king’s just for show.”

                My grip tightens on my father’s grave. “That’s treason you’re talking there, Lady von Karbelnikoff.”

                “No, it’s the truth.” There’s contempt in her eyes. Normally I’d brush it off with ‘That’s Anissina for you’, but today she’s pushing my limits. I can’t take any more shit today, not even hers.

                If she senses the tension in my shoulders, though, she doesn’t show it.

                “You know it, I know it, the king knows it. Heck, he counts on it. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a wonderful king. He has great ideas, things even I never thought of, and he tries his best to make them work, bless his little black-haired head. But while he’s out there understanding and changing the world, you’re the one holding the fort here, so that, when he gets tired of his adventures, he’ll have a home to return to.”

                I pause.

                “It’s not a bad thing. In fact, I like it this way, don’t you? The world is at peace, changing for the better with every new policy. Though I don’t understand what’s the point behind all these holidays yet, I’m sure we’ll come to appreciate their hidden genius someday. So, Gwen…”         

                She walks up to me, the girl I grew up with, the one who has to crane her neck so she can flick my forehead, the only one who can do that and get away with it, even though her flick is strong enough to make my ears ring.

                So much so, that I can barely hear her next words.

                “...You’re not Stoffel. And you sure as hell aren’t your dad.”

                My mother was Demon Queen, but she was always being dictated, first by my father, then by her brother. Despite being queen, she never did much work. I have no right to criticize how she ran the country, but I do know her reign ended with war, and much discontent. I have no right to judge, because I still can’t see for sure if His Majesty Yuuri’s reign will end any differently, and what history will make of my role in it.

                I despise Stoffel. Who doesn’t? And sometimes, I find myself blaming my father for coddling Mother so early in her reign, and in her life, so she grew to be dependent on the men around her. That’s why, when I find myself acting that way with Wolfram, and His Majesty… I get scared.

                But young Yuuri isn’t Mother. And I’m not my father.

                “For one,” Anissina adds, “You’re way too soft, and it’s not even that deep down.”

                …Although maybe I should take some pointers from them in that aspect.

                “No, don’t change,” Anissina seems to read the dejection in my expression, and more or less commands me. “If you decide to man up, I might have to find some less durable test subjects, with a higher turnover rate…” She pauses. “I’m just stating the truth, by the way. Regardless of what you may think, I don’t have to resort to blackmailing your conscience to make you do my bidding as of yet. It’s just that you won’t do it, will you? Put someone else in danger to save yourself.”

                She sighs. “That’s why I say you’re too soft.”

                Finally I lose the precious few strands of patience I had left. “If you’re done with the lecture, we can go back now, before Wolfram tears down the place.”

                “Oh, on the contrary, he and the princess are bonding over the ‘Father’s Day’ decorations. Something about surprising His Majesty when he returns. Which reminds me…”

               Anissina fumbles through her pockets. This is, I realize, the real reason she came out all the way here to look for me.

                “Here. A present for you, for being such a good dad to those kittens. And His Majesty and Wolfram and maybe even Conrad, too, of course.”

                I accept the little velvet box with trembling fingers. “D-do I have to open it now? Because if it’s explosive, I’d rather open it somewhere other than my father’s grave…”

                So he wasn’t the best father around, but I didn’t hate him _that_ much.

                “Oh, don’t get your socks in a knot.” Anissina waves my worries away. “It’s not volatile. And it lasts a long time, too, as long as you want it to. I just wanted to give it to you today rather than the actual Father’s Day itself, because I might forget, or you might end up so busy while everyone else is out celebrating that you can’t even remember your own name.”

                Both options are, sadly, quite likely.

                Warily I open the box, an inch at a time, in case the immortal creature inside jumps out at me. But, as it turns out, it’s not a woodland monster, after all, or any of her dangerous chemicals. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found a piece of high quality houseki in there. But I _am_ surprised, I’m not afraid to admit, to see… a piece of paper?

                “It’s what His Majesty suggested when I said I couldn’t think of anything to give you.” She sounds almost… sheepish? “He calls them ‘coupons’. Apparently they can be traded for goods or services, just like currency.”

                So… It’s basically printed currency? I frown a little at that. But it seems it’s only payable to the person who issued it, so I suppose it’s more like a written promise. That seems slightly better. Slightly.

                The paper is folded into three identical cards, each with Anissina’s trademark barely-legible scrawl, and a cartoon that looked like a cross between Wolfram’s and Greta’s work. All in all, the orange cards looked vaguely familiar, like those cards that came with that long, complicated financial board game His Majesty brought back that time. I squint at the words, being one of few people in this world who can read Anissina’s writing. It’s not a good skill to have, trust me, as it meant I knew, sometimes in all too much detail, what Anissina’s experiments entailed, but sometimes it came in handy to know what your childhood – and maybe only—friend was writing.

                “…’Get Out of Lab Free’?”

                She thrusts three fingers into my face. “Three times. Because you look like you might need some time off. I’m not completely heartless, you know. But three’s all you’re going to get, so use them wisely.”

                I’m about to protest—how will three coupons last me another three centuries?—when it dawns on me.

                Never before had Anissina stopped an experiment for anyone else. And she said before these had no expiry date.

                Suddenly, the paper cards seemed to be made of gold.

                She was willing to put her experiments on hold, not once, not twice, but three times, for me. Indefinitely. And she probably hasn’t realized the magnitude of that yet.

                I keep the cards carefully back into their box.

                This is her rare show of compassion, and compromise. And it’s only for me.

*

Unfortunately, the coupons ended up having the opposite effect. Having what was basically immunity passes, and only three of them, Lord Gwendal von Voltaire started with the ‘If it doesn’t kill me, it’s not worth a coupon’ mentality, meaning he subconsciously took more and more punishment at the hands of Miss Anissina von Karbelnikoff.

               Until one day, decades or maybe even centuries later, when she would inevitably suggest launching him into space, he would run, stumbling, to his drawer, where the paper cards will essentially crumble into dust at his touch.

**Author's Note:**

> There should be one more part before the grand finale with our hero, so which 'father' do you think will be featured next? XD


End file.
